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rejectomorph"I stood in line for over an hour, while pregnant with my first child and my mother to see Vaughn Monroe." (Comment at Farcebook on a photo of the 1953 demolition of a famous Philadelphia theater.) Every now and then the Idernets will toss you an unexpected treat, and you just melt with inexplicable joy. The lady who left this comment seven years ago must have been born in the early 1930s, and quite likely will no longer be among the living, but I won't give her name anyway. Sure, she exposed herself and remains so on Farcebook, but it still feels cruel to exploit her haplessness any way but anonymously.
And perhaps she is not deceased at all. Given that she was to give birth not only to a daughter but to her own mother as well, it might be that she is an immortal. I mean, she must have been her mother's daughter, as well as her daughter's mother, and has as such been giving birth to iterations of herself, and being born to those iterations, again and again, throughout the ages. But to think that this mother of mothers, and daughter of daughters, not only may be among us, but was on Farcebook, and might still be, and is, furthermore, a fan of Vaughan Monroe! This is what truly boggles the mind.
And just imagine what this could mean for a remake of "Chinatown."
Poor Jake.
Anyway.
After sleeping (more or less) all (more or less) Thursday night, I was a bit surprised that I was able to sleep more Friday afternoon, but I did sleep, and didn't get up until about five o'clock. I let a couple of hours pass before trying to eat dinner, which was some spicy teriyaki noodles with leftover mushrooms and vegetables, and in the meantime I let my phone battery die again and had to wait for it to get sufficiently recharged that I could connect to the Idernets again. That got done, and then I waited around to see how bad the acid reflux would get. It got annoying, but not horrendous. I might be able to lie down and sleep without (TMI warning) drowning myself in my own upchuck.
And now I've gotten carried away with ice cream and eaten way too much of that. Something tells me I might have a rough day ahead. At least there are no plans to get disrupted, and surprise opportunities for spontaneous adventures are, as always, highly unlikely. I guess I'll just get in bed and see what happens.
But first, a bit of (who else?) Vaughn Monroe:
And perhaps she is not deceased at all. Given that she was to give birth not only to a daughter but to her own mother as well, it might be that she is an immortal. I mean, she must have been her mother's daughter, as well as her daughter's mother, and has as such been giving birth to iterations of herself, and being born to those iterations, again and again, throughout the ages. But to think that this mother of mothers, and daughter of daughters, not only may be among us, but was on Farcebook, and might still be, and is, furthermore, a fan of Vaughan Monroe! This is what truly boggles the mind.
And just imagine what this could mean for a remake of "Chinatown."
"She's my daughter.
"She's my mother.
"She's my daughter. My mother. My daughter. My mother. My daughter.
"She's my mother and my daughter!
"Okay we are all me. Cocktail?"
Poor Jake.
Anyway.
After sleeping (more or less) all (more or less) Thursday night, I was a bit surprised that I was able to sleep more Friday afternoon, but I did sleep, and didn't get up until about five o'clock. I let a couple of hours pass before trying to eat dinner, which was some spicy teriyaki noodles with leftover mushrooms and vegetables, and in the meantime I let my phone battery die again and had to wait for it to get sufficiently recharged that I could connect to the Idernets again. That got done, and then I waited around to see how bad the acid reflux would get. It got annoying, but not horrendous. I might be able to lie down and sleep without (TMI warning) drowning myself in my own upchuck.
And now I've gotten carried away with ice cream and eaten way too much of that. Something tells me I might have a rough day ahead. At least there are no plans to get disrupted, and surprise opportunities for spontaneous adventures are, as always, highly unlikely. I guess I'll just get in bed and see what happens.
But first, a bit of (who else?) Vaughn Monroe:
